Mountains and slugs and beaches, oh my!

The Olympic Peninsula

These three panoramic pictures capture the unique nature of the Olympic Peninsula, from temperate rain forests to snowy mountain peaks to craggy ocean coastline replete with sea stacks.

Probably the most important, undeveloped, and interesting part of this diverse state is the Olympic Peninsula, named for the Olympic mountain range (including Mt. Olympus). The state’s shape reminds me of a teapot, and I consider the peninsula as the spout. Also, of course, it’s also a National Park, although one we had both visited with Tex before.

We decided to stray away from our trailer in Gig Harbor so we could “really get to know” this large area, and settled on the small town of Forks as our home base for the coast, rain forest and mountains found in the park.

A detour on our drive took us to a true “reclamation” site. Dave is at the overlook for what USED to be a dam on the Elwha River. It was built in 1913 and taken down in 2011 to return the salmon runs. Now THAT’s reclamation!

Several locals had advised us Cape Flattery was a “must-stop” since it is the northwestern-most corner of the lower 48 states. We cut north off the heavily trafficked 101 and drove along the north coastline into the Makah reservation, spotting Canada across the Strait of Juan de Fuca, a Roosevelt elk herd, and bald eagles (and their offspring) standing watch over rocks on the shoreline. Our mile-long walk to the Cape Flattery point was wet and cool but satisfying with views of an island with a lighthouse and sea caves – not unlike those features at our NPS summer gig on Lake Superior.

On our drive to Cape Flattery, we saw several bald eagles, including this example of helicopter parenting.

We also spotted a small herd of about 20 Roosevelt Elk (Teddy references are everywhere out here, and his actions helped save the elk in 1909. In fact, the elk and not the mountains, coast or rain forest, were the impetus for creating what is now Olympic National Park).

We are posing at Cape Flattery, the northwestern-most point of the mainland portion of the lower 48 states (the land mass in the background is an island). There’s not much there, or as Dave reminded me “Flattery will get you nowhere.”

Forks is a timber town and seems to still be struggling with the de-emphasis on this trade (no thanks to spotted owls and salmon runs). But it was a good central point to stay for a trip to the west side of the peninsula, and we enjoyed learning about logging techniques and tools at the Timber Museum which was staffed by volunteer from Chicago. The building was constructed by a high school carpentry class in the 1990s, and covered the good times when Forks was the “Logging Capital of the Word,” (as late as the 1970s).

We stayed two nights in Forks, WA, the fictional home of the popular “Twilight” books and movies. We didn’t see any vampires but did check in with Burl and Crosscut at the Forks Timber Museum, which was constructed by local high schoolers in 1990.

 

Dave's mother was an active member of the Liberty Missouri Soroptimist Club so he was pleased to see that the Soroptimist Club in Forks had contributed a garden to the timber museum.

Settlement near the town began in 1878 and it is named after the confluence of the Calawah, Bogachiel and Sol Duc Rivers. The town has survived two major fires and multiple “blow-downs” of trees caused by hurricane force winds over the years; not to mention an average of 12 FEET of rain per year!

The “West Enders,” as the locals are called, made up for the decline in logging by touting their connection to the “Twilight” series of young adult vampire books and movies. Locals say the author, Stephanie Meyer, had never been to Forks when she wrote the books and did all of her research online. Meyer selected Forks as the setting for the novels because she wanted a rainy, cool, perpetually overcast place where her vampires would feel right at home. We have not read the books and no nothing about them or the movies; but the everyone we talked to said Meyer nailed the town down to minute details despite never having set foot in the place before she wrote the books. 

By the looks of things the books draw lots of visitors and you can find lots of Twilight tours and souvenirs, including “Forks Bites” t-shirts.

To stave off the encroachment of logging, President Grover Cleveland first set aside the Olympic Forest Reserve in 1897. Teddy (here he is again!) elevated the park to National Monument status in 1909 to help protect the elk herds that were being decimated for their mystical canine teeth, and his cousin FDR designated it a National Park in 1938. Thanks to these presidents, the 5,000-year-old forest and 500-year-old trees in the park have remained virtually untouched.

The nearby Ho Rain Forest is the largest temperate (vs. tropical) rain forest in the world, helped by around 12 FEET of rain per year thanks to its position on the west side of the Olympics. We arrived in time to chat with a volunteer from Borneo who loved to talk about rain forest and take a short walk. We then joined the enthusiastic Jenna for a Ranger-led walk with dozens of other tourists. She did a great job of engaging the kids and helped us understand the characteristics of rain forests and local trees, some topping 200 feet in height. We also learned to identify “nurse logs,” which are dead trees which create a horizontal birthing ground off the forest floor for seeds from pine cones that fall and settle into the decaying wood to create new growth. Several nurtured a row, or “colonnade” of new trees. There’s a “circle of life” message in there somewhere.

The little boys on our rain forest tour loved finding the numerous yellow banana slugs along the trail.

We ended the day visiting the beach along a part of the only ocean coastline in the state (much of the state’s west coast is trapped in the many islands and peninsulas of the Salish Sea and Puget Sound.) We had a beautiful but uneven walk out on the rocky shoreline, but just as we headed back a thick fog rolled in. It was a reminder of how quickly the weather changes. I also recalled our 2013 trip to Oregon, when we spent 10 days along the coast before we could spot the Pacific through the ever-present fog. 

Our visit to the limited public portion of the Washington coast was beautiful. Just minutes after this picture was taken, a fog rolled in, obscuring almost all the views.

The next day we drove the 17-mile Hurricane Ridge road to get a view of the mountains, which hovered over us the entire trip but – like many of the state’s peaks – was usually covered by clouds. As you can see from the picture at the top, we got our view of the range, and even saw the tip of the 7,965-tall Mt. Olympus peeking through the clouds.

We considered driving into a hot springs area on our way back east but got a tepid (!) review of that area from both the Forks Motel employee as well as the NPS Ranger. So instead we detoured to Port Townsend, which is on the opposite end of the ferry from the beautiful Whidbey Island we had visited earlier. I managed to find an Air BnB on a busy Friday, and we were pleased with the hilltop view from the tower of this Victorian home, built in 1889 the year Washington became a state and Seattle’s downtown burned down.

On our way back from the peninsula, on a whim, we stopped in Port Townsend, a state-capital-wannabe that railroads and modernity passed by in the early 1900s, fortuitously preserving an impressive collection of Victorian buildings, including this house where we stayed.

After a brief tour, we walked the steep hill downtown, reveling in the extraordinary and unblocked view of Mt. Rainier. One landmark on the walk was a replica of a fountain that was part of the Mexican exhibition at Chicago’s 1893 Columbian Exposition. Not sure how it ended up here, but a nice connection to the new home of our son and daughter-in-law.

As we learned before, Port Townsend had lobbied to be the state capital, but when the railroads aimed south, and the 1893 financial crisis hit, the town was pretty much passed over by developers and nobody had the resources or the reasons to tear down old buildings for new. That was OK by us. 

After a seafood dinner with great local beer, we discovered even more inspirational mountain views – made golden by a setting sun - from the small beach.

For the first time, we got a relatively unobstructed view of Mt. Rainier as we walked around Port Townsend.

On this evening we were able to spot Rainier (on the right), Baker (shrouded in clouds on the left), and the rest of the craggy Northern Cascades in the middle, but this picture doesn't do it justice. It was quite a view.

 

FINALLY, a local Farmer’s Market that met Betsy’s high expectations of local produce and hippie (not hipster) feel in Port Townsend, WA on Saturday morning.

We took a fun side trip to Poulbos, Washington’s “Little Norway,” settled 100 years ago and now a tourist trap for Seattle weekend sojourners.

 

On the way home from the peninsula we also stopped at one of the many Navy museums in the area. At this one we learned all about the “deterrence” of Trident missiles and the submarine fleet.

It was a great few days, but always fun to get “home” to our trailer and Tempurpedic bed.